Not Pulling Alone
by Amber Esme Hermione
Summary: Clark is shot by Van, and Jonathan gets help saving him.  Spoilers Se3-Ep3.
1. No Questions

**Disclaimer: **Any characters, settings, dialoge, or plot recognizable are not mine. I just dragged Lex away from his computer and took him somewhere he could be useful. (Seriously, that's what he's doing after this scene's over.)

**Title: **Not Pulling Alone **by **Amber Esme Hermione

**Timeline:** Season 3 Episode 3 "Extinction" Clark is shot with the Kryptonite bullet.

**Summary:** Jonathan deals with Clark's near death from the Kryptonite bullet, and gains a new understanding for Lex Luthor.

"I've searched everywhere from here to Metropolis. It's like Van disappeared." Clark walks over to help me unload hay bails.

I'm hauling one over as I respond. "Ah, Clark he can't hide forever." I drop it brushing off my hands. "Every police officer in the state is looking for him. They'll find him."

Clark joins me with his own burden. "Let's hope he doesn't find his next target first." We trade places. "Dad, do you think I'm like Van?"

It's an easy rhythm—lift, carry, drop, and repeat. "Well I think you know my answer to that question son. The real question is do _you_ think you're like Van?"

"It's just I've come into contact with a lot of Kryptonite infected people. It never ends with us being friends or shaking hands." He stops walking focusing on his words. "I gave Lana this whole tolerance speech. I assume the worst about them too."

I put a bracing arm around my son. "For all we know there could be lots of people out there who have been infected who live perfectly normal lives." Circling around I face him.

"They're forced to live with their secret just like me."

"And they could be using their abilities for good too." I smile and pat his shoulder. "I'm gunna get cleaned up."

Half way across the yard I hear a thud, and Clark groans in pain.

"Clark?" He's laying face down. "Clark!"

I turn him over kneeling in the grass. "Uh… Ah… Dad… Uh…"

There's a rip in his shirt. His blood—my son's—Clark's _blood _is seeping from it. "I've got you son."

He releases a pained yell. "OW!"

I wedge my hands under his arms trying to pull him. He tries to help pushing with his legs, but he's already losing strength. I'm panting, pulling, fighting for each foot. _Martha! _I want to call her, but the shooter is still out there. _I can't leave him to go get her. _

The least welcome sound in the world is getting louder—the purring engine of a sports car.—the harbinger of Luthor. _Have to keep moving._ The car's still running, but I can already hear him running our way.

"Mr. Kent? Is everything—Clark!" His phone is in his hand before I can stop him.

I let go of Clark and spring to my feet. "Luthor. Drop. That. Phone. NOW!"

"He's been SHOT, Mr. Kent!" The boy at least has the since to shut his phone. "Clark needs help."

"And the only way he's gunna get it is if I get him in the house." I bend down wasting no more time or energy on the boy. After a moment of pulling alone I see his expensive shoes braced on either side of Clark's legs.

"We'll do it your way then." I nod and he lifts. Clark moans something that sounds suspiciously like _Lex. _"I'm here. We have to get you inside."

"Hurts!" His face is twisted in agony, but we're almost to the house now. It's much easier with two people.

'I know son. We'll make it stop." We're hauling him up the steps, and the boy stumbles, but he keeps moving. "Martha!"

"Jonathan?—CLARK!"

"No, Martha, go get a knife. Heat it on the stove." She doesn't move. Her eyes are fixed on our son squirming in pain.

"We've got him, Mrs. Kent." Luthor tries to reassure her. "We need your help. Clark, needs your help." She goes into the kitchen, and we follow. The boy is looking at me for instructions.

"Just, lay him here." I can hear Martha at the stove. "How's that coming sweetheart?"

"I've got it!"

Clark is groaning, writhing on the floor. I start ripping his shirt open. He bows up from the floor. "It's—it's ok. It's alright Clark." I climb over my son. "Hang in there. It's ok. It's alright."

Lex is at his head—holding him down—one hand on his chest the other supporting his head.

"Shit!" The boy exclaims; we can all see the green lines spreading around the wound.

Martha's on his other side now. "Jonathan he's dying!" She looks up at me terror in her eyes. "The poison is spreading so fast."

"Ok, Clark." The hot knife is in my hands. "I'm gunna… gunna get it out."

I jam the blade into his flesh. He rears again grunting in pain.

"Luthor! Hold him down. Clark, you've got to stay still son."

I'm forcing the sides open; carving into the red and green crevice in my son's shoulder.

Martha's begging Clark to listen. "Hold on baby. Hold on. Dad's gunna get it."

Luthor looks up, panicked murmur. "He's not breathing."

_There, it's deep enough._ "Hand me those." Martha presses the pliers into my hand. My voice is breaking with the fear, the ache of seeing Clark like this. "Don't you give up on us now, Son!"

"Jonathan?" Martha's breathless whisper is a sob.

"Martha." _I can't cry I have to see what I'm doing!_ "It's in there so far." Pressing deeper, deeper, digging, searching, "Wait a second I think I got it." Clamp down and jerk back, pull it up and out. "Ok, a little more."

Martha's voice is a little less broken. "Baby hold on, Daddy's got it." She trusts me to save him.

The green shaft comes free, and I hear the boy beside me gasp. We all glare at the thing for a second before I toss it into the waiting bowl. Martha covers it with a towel.

I'm gasping, "Get that thing out of here." She hurries from the room. "Clark, come on son." I run hand over my face finally letting the tears fall. "Come on, Clark."

As we watch—Luthor is still there—the green lines pull back, the ragged red gouge fuses to a point, and that too is gone. The older boy sits back on his heals; no questions, no prying, and lightly traces his fingers over the mended skin.

Our gazes lock across Clark's motionless body; I can see fear and anger fighting in his eyes. I sniff rubbing my hand across my face. "Let's get him on the couch before his mother comes back."

He nods and we haul Clark into the living room together. After we wrestle him onto the couch Luth—no—Lex stands behind the couch watching Clark's face.

I clear my throat. "Now, Lex—"

He meets my gaze briefly. His voice is drained. "Mr. Kent, no offense, but I'll wait. Clark can tell me when he wakes up."

**A/N: **Alright, this idea has been running around in my head for quite a while. It was a perfect moment for Lex to **prove** that he just wants to help Clark. This isn't intended slash, but it could be read pre-slash if you want to see it. I'm just fleshing out a "what if" that's been nagging me for a while. Please leave a review—I feel unloved otherwise.

Loyal readers, you can consider this separate, but related to _Raise from the Ashes _because I'll have to do something like this in that story soon. I'm going to change it around so no worries about reading the same thing entirely.


	2. Suicide Mission

**A/N: **Here we are again by popular demand. Lex's observations as Clark prepares to do battle with Van.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything to do with Smallville. I just took Lex from his lonely castle, his endless viewings of the crash reconstruction, and took him somewhere useful.

**Chapter 2**

Clark's eyes flutterd open and I lent forward resting my arms on the back of the Kent's couch. I let a smile cross my features. "Welcome back." I murmered and turned to call to his parents. "He's awake!"

"Oh Clark," Mrs. Kent was the first to reach him. She lay her hands on his shoulders. It looked like she was afraid to touch him.

"How are you feeling son?" Jonathan kept his eyes on his son.

"A little woozy." He turned to me a question in his eyes. I shrugged telling him it could wait.

Mrs. Kent stepped forward as if to steady him. "Maybe you should sit down—take it slowly."

"No I need to find Van." He shook his head.

Mr. Kent's face creased with worry—a feeling I shared, but I was better at hiding that. "Clark just because your wound is healed doesn't mean you don't need to rest."

"How can I rest knowing Van's out there with a hit list in his hands." He turned and headed for the stairs.

Mrs. Kent was on his heals. "Clark! This boy is not like th others—he has Kryptonite bullets!" She may have forgotten my presence, but her husband hasn't he glanced back to me. I held my blank expression and kept pace beside him.

Clark was his priority. "He's already tried to kill you once son. I won't let you give him a second chance."

I could see that nothing they said would stop him. He was already on the stairs. "I know what I'm up against now." He left his shirt on the newell post and rushed out of sight.

"Let me give it shot Mr. Kent." I offered and met the older man's gaze. "I can at least stall him while we figure something out." I raced up the stairs after Clark and found him in his room buttoning a new shirt.

"They're already sending you to convince me to stay." He sighed.

"You do owe me an explination." I tried to smirk, but the amusment faded. "I'd rather get it from you _before_you go on this suicide mission."

"Lex I'm taking precautions." He moved aside his shirt. Alayer of smashed gray material obscured his chest.

I reached out to touch the surface. "What is this Clark?"

"It's lead." His patinted smile appeared full force. "I have you to thank for this."

I arched an eyebrow. "How so?"

"The box you gave me—with Lana's necklace."

After a second I noticed my mouth was open slightly, and closed it. "It can block the –Krypt—what did your Mom call it?"

"Kryptonite, and yes." Clark unconciously ran his tongue over his lips. "I don't have time for along explination now. The simplest answer is that the meteors were pieces of my home planet." Then he walked out his door and down the stairs. I followed, but we were both stopped by Sheriff Addams at thd door.

"Well rumors of your death have been greatly exagerated, Mr. Kent."

**A/N: **I guess you're going to want me to coneinue after this huh? Well I can expand on this chapter, but I don't know how far I want to go. What else do you guys want to happen?


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